


comme une reine

by butterscotchlatte



Category: Twisted-Wonderland (Video Game)
Genre: 10000 french endearments, Established Relationship, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-10
Updated: 2021-01-26
Packaged: 2021-03-14 08:21:04
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,806
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28667643
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/butterscotchlatte/pseuds/butterscotchlatte
Summary: 'In truth, Vil was upset. While he may have appeared as his usual charming, infallible self to those around them, it was not difficult for Rook to notice that he had spent the day troubled and distracted. In fact, his mood had only been worsening as the week passed by, ever since - Rook suspected - that clearly worthless Mira dared to mention the name of a certain Neige Leblanche in his Roi du Poison's presence.'Rook wants to make Vil feel beautiful. Just some self indulgent nonsense!!
Relationships: Rook Hunt/Vil Schoenheit
Comments: 10
Kudos: 49





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So this is completely up to the reader but just putting it out there - in my mind this takes place in an au where night raven college is in fact a college instead of a high school. I love the designs of these characters so much, but I'm in my 20s and I personally don't like thinking of them as being teenagers even if they're of age or whatever. I imagine they are both at least 22 here <3

"Anything the matter, _mon amour_?" Rook asked gently. It was late on a Friday evening, and they were alone at last with the intention of unwinding together in the rare silence and privacy of Vil's lavish quarters. Vil himself was as still and beautiful as a sculpture, perched cross legged at the foot of his bed and looking, Rook thought, a touch contemplative from where he stood in observation. His heels and socks had been discarded at the door, but otherwise he was still in the day's clothes.  
"Nothing at all," came his curt response, a little too quick and a little too sharp to be believable, at least to the discerning ear of the hunter. 

In truth, asking had been a formality. Rook knew he wouldn't receive a candid answer and he also knew he didn't need one; his beloved dorm leader had no hope of hiding anything from him, today or ever. Not his emotions, which were always elucidated in his glittering lilac eyes, not his thoughts, which Rook simply knew so well after years by his side that he could practically pre-empt them, and most certainly not his body, which his lover had now begun slowly closing in on with practiced, predatory elegance.

_In truth_ , Vil was upset. While he may have appeared as his usual charming, infallible self to those around them, it was not difficult for Rook to notice that he had spent the day troubled and distracted. In fact, his mood had only been worsening as the week passed by, ever since - Rook suspected - that clearly worthless Mira dared to mention the name of a certain Neige Leblanche in his _Roi du Poison's presence_. Like silver storm clouds gathering ominously in a once clear sky, Rook had watched carefully since that day as misplaced jealousy and discontentment built up subtly within Vil. It had been troubling to witness, and he had been looking forward to an opportunity which he might take to help assuage those difficult feelings.

When Rook reached the bed, he sat silently behind Vil and ever so gently pulled his slight body in to rest against his chest. There was no use asking again, pressing for explanations or acknowledging the situation directly. Vil would deny it, would become flustered and defensive, and would likely threaten hollowly to replace the vice dorm leader and less hollowly to eject him from his room at once. No, there was no use in it at all. Instead it would remain unspoken, at least for now, and Rook would focus on giving his precious queen what he knew he needed in that moment - his undivided love and devotion, as a reminder that he would always be the fairest there was to those who truly appreciated beauty.

"You are just _magnifique_ ," Rook breathed against a silken blond braid, breaking the heavy silence that had hung in the air since the moment that he had been implicitly warned not to pry. He felt Vil exhale minutely, as though in agreement, or perhaps in relief that Rook had clearly chosen not to inquire further about his mood.  
"You worked hard today _mon trésor_ , you must be tired," Rook continued, taking one of Vil's delicate hands in his own and bringing it to his lips for a feather light kiss.

"Might I have the honour of readying you for bed? I'm sure you are eager to make yourself more comfortable after such a long day."  
Without waiting for a response - Vil would surely have protested had he been inclined to - Rook busied both hands with carefully untying the neat sash at his waist.  
"Stand for me, darling?" he murmured next, so that Vil's Pomefiore robes could be taken off, and then hung and put away lest they risk the appearance of any creases. Vil obliged, and the garment was efficiently but gently removed. Rook made quick work of his own robe afterwards, draping it with less care over the chair by Vil's impressive dressing table so that they both stood in their plain black undershirts and pants.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> well I feel like this fic and its general anti-neige tone may have aged badly with certain recent events in mind but I just desperately wanted to finish it to make myself and hopefully others feel a lil better haha! kinda over here genuinely upset to a pretty embarrassing degree I won't lie, let's get thru this nonsense together ;__;

While Vil methodically removed the final pieces of his outfit himself, Rook left his side for a moment to rummage in one of the bedroom's many drawers for something they could both wear to bed. Rook was allowed to keep a few items of clothing in Vil's quarters, and it was a small, mundane gesture but one that he didn't take for granted - it wasn't often that Pomefiore's leader compromised on maintaining perfect control and order over his own space for somebody else. It was two of these items that he eventually chose for both of them; a pair of fairly plain nightshirts of Rook's own. He knew that Vil always found it comforting to wear his clothes even if he had naturally never outright admitted it, and quietly delighted in that knowledge.  
  
By the time Rook turned to face Vil again, he was more than pleased to see him already stripped down to his underwear. He'd seen the model's body countless times, of course, but it was never any less of a marvel to him. Staring openly at his unblemished skin, he not for the first time felt acutely aware of the rare and precious trust that Vil had placed in his hands - the trust to see him like this, to touch him, really to exist within his inner circle at all - and it occurred to him for the umpteenth time that he wasn't sure he was worthy of it. Part of him knew he may never feel he'd done enough to deserve someone so beautiful in his life, but that was perfectly okay as long as they could always remain together. As long as Rook continued to strive for the perfection his love deserved.  
  
"Are you enjoying yourself...?" Vil eventually asked, an eyebrow raised and a corner of his perfect lips upturned, interrupting Rook's train of thought after he had spent who knows how many seconds motionlessly gazing at his boyfriend's almost-naked body. "Of course I am, there's nothing I enjoy more," Rook responded easily, returning to the task at hand and passing Vil his pyjamas for the night, not missing the slight smile that graced his features when he realised what he was holding. Seeing Vil smile after a difficult day always felt every bit as miraculous to Rook as if he were watching a field of snow melt into a Spring garden before his eyes. After stealing a quick kiss to Vil's cheek, he flitted to the ensuite to prepare a few items for him and allowed them both a moment to finish changing.  
The final step of Vil's all important nightly routine involved him sitting at his vanity before a bowl of warm water Rook had set out for him, gently removing his makeup and applying his usual multitude of painstakingly formulated facial cleansers and serums. Rook took pride and enjoyment in equal measures in standing behind him, lovingly unbraiding and then brushing his hair while stealing frequent glances in the mirror of the image they made together. He leant down to leave a lingering kiss on the top of his head to indicate once he was satisfied with his work, pausing to inhale deeply at the soothing scent. Perfection.  
  
Vil was beautiful in almost an innocent way like this, skin dewy and soft and hair unbound, falling around his face in effortlessly perfect waves. It made a certain possessiveness well up within Rook, knowing that only he was ever allowed to witness Vil in his most natural, vulnerable state. He wanted to protect that rare image of him from the world, memorise it and lock it away in his heart and mind where no one else could ever touch it. It was with these thoughts swirling in his head that Rook was finally, finally allowed to lead Vil to the luxurious bed they often shared and lay by his side for the night.  
  
The couple settled easily into a comfortable position together, Rook fluidly manoeuvring Vil into his arms the way he always did. Vil had grown used to sleeping in his embrace to say the least, with perhaps _addicted_ being a more accurate descriptor for the way he'd lately found himself practically unable to fall asleep alone. One of his slender thighs was wrapped around Rook's waist, and his head was pillowed against the steady heartbeat in his chest. Rook meanwhile felt that simply lying like this with the love of his life in his arms was his favourite activity in the world, unsure if even the thrill of a successful hunt could compete with the quiet, warm satisfaction it gave him.  
  
It felt somehow easier to talk openly this way too, with the room in total silence and barely illuminated by a single faint sliver of moonlight streaming through the window. Rook had been unusually quiet for some time while dutifully going through the motions of assisting Vil in his bedtime preparations, but now he wanted to make sure he was truly ok.  
  
"You're the most beautiful thing in the world to me..." he began carefully, still hoping to address the cause of Vil's worry without referring to it directly. The hand that wasn't resting on the graceful slope of Vil's waist was carding soothingly through his hair, and Rook thought he could feel the tense body on top of his gradually beginning to relax.  
"I know," was Vil's only response, voice quiet and still a little guarded. That was ok. Rook simply continued on, nuzzling into Vil's temple as he spoke, pressing his lips against the sensitive skin over and over until he felt him shiver;  
"No one can ever take your place, _mon bijou_." he breathed, punctuating each of his words with kisses now.  
" _mon etoile_ ," another kiss to a sharp cheekbone.  
" _mon coeur_ ," and another.  
  
Vil's eyelids had fallen shut at some point as he luxuriated under the attention, his arms now loosely held around the other's neck. Rook's nimble fingers had slipped beneath the hem of his shirt to trace slow, repetitive patterns against the skin of his hip. They remained like that wordlessly for a little while, until the kisses slowed and trailed off as Vil's breathing evened out, and both of Rook's hands came to rest on his back to coax him to sleep with gentle strokes.  
  
Rook's whispered _I love you_ was the last thing Vil heard as he drifted off. Neither of them could deny that the unmatched adoration of the world was important to Vil, but here, alone together and hidden away from the eyes of the public, it was easy for him to feel for just a moment that it didn't matter whether or not he always came first. In these moments, the undying love of his truest fan was enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for reading, still v v new to this and comments and kudos are really appreciated! I now also have [a brand new twitter](https://twitter.com/maple_Iatte/) where I can post silly twst stuff without driving my friends insane - I would really love to connect with u there!


End file.
